


Plaid Button Up

by Ribbonshalos



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 23:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbonshalos/pseuds/Ribbonshalos
Summary: She’s not sure what possesses her to take his hand, but she does. Warmth spreads between her fingers as they leave the bar behind. A deep rumbling chuckle moves against her back when they stop to let a car hover by.





	Plaid Button Up

She’s not sure what possesses her to take his hand, but she does. Warmth spreads between her fingers as they leave the bar behind. A deep rumbling chuckle moves against her back when they stop to let a car hover by.

“Where are ya takin’ me, sugar?”

She turns only her head. Throwing a sharp, glittering look over her shoulder, McCree stares back with honey eyes. Even a little buzzed, they hold up well.

“Somewhere private,  _vaquero_.”

She tugs him along as his hand squeezes hers.

“Yer secrets are always yers, ain’t they, Sombra,” he says, but she doesn’t have to look to see the soft calm on his face.

His blind faith in her touch lifts her heart. A long time passed by before she ever thought about love, especially with someone like him. Her mind wanders back to their unintentional meetings, the prolong talks with drinks and then kissing with no clear meaning. It’s as if she was following a neon light in the darkness and stumbled upon him.

Perhaps she just likes the smell of pinewood and smoke upon his clothes. Or it may be the rumble in his voice when he calls her darling.

When they come to a dark alleyway, and slip into a small street, her hideaway stays in the shadows. McCree doesn’t slow or hesitate as Sombra leads him inside. In the colored city, they find a little darkness.

His stare lingers for a few moments on her holovids and purple screens. Nothing important is present at the moment. He couldn’t find anything if he tried. Shedding her coat, she remains in leggings and a tight black shirt. Simple clothing to cover up her implants when the need to go out in public arises.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she says.

A soft purple hue lights the room. The neon pulls at his features, making shadows in the wake of his brown locks and beard. Taking off his own jacket reveals a plaid blue and white button up. The boots come off as her own heels do, and with a simple stride he comes to her meager couch. Settling down, he places his hat on her table, allowing the purple light to cover his entire face.

She swears softly under her breath. The cowboy looks like he’s about to farm, but still entices her interest. In simple jeans and a button up, she’s weak. The warmth from his hand spreads up her veins and into her chest. A flood of longing that only wants to touch his face.  

Licking her lips, as if a hungry wolf finding prey, she walks to the couch. She stops. Looking down at him for a moment, he tugs his lips upwards.

“Ya gonna join me, darlin’?” he invites.

“Jesse, take your shirt off,” her demand comes swiftly.

He blinks, before looking down for a moment in consideration.

“Just the button up. The white shirt can stay for now.” He won’t be as intoxicating in just a plain tee, but he’s surprised her before.

“Alright,” he agrees, before slowly slipping the shirt off his torso. It unveils one arm of metal and the other of flesh. She’s no stranger to the sight of his prosthetic, but he is self-conscious of it. When her fingers have touched his prosthetic hand before, he was wary. Her love bled into the wires and pieces of his false hand until he held her closer.

The moment the shirt is free of him, her hand takes it. She presses one knee into the couch beside him as she slips it onto her own body. Pinewood and smoke greet Sombra. The soft, familiar scent causes her lungs to move deeply for a moment as she fixes the blue plaid on her person.

Much better. 

She slips one arm around his shoulder, smiling. His soul seems to dance in his eyes as her finger outlines one of the buttons. It’s as if he’s seeing the finest dress, or finding her in sparkling attire. Every little gaze that graces hers is honey from McCree’s eyes. The sweetness of him drowns her lips at the thought of tasting his.

“You look more comfortable,” she slips in nonchalantly.

McCree takes a moment. Dare she say that in the purple light blush seems to ting along his cheek bones. It’s rare to get him pink, but Sombra is crafty at finding exploits.

“Somehow, ya make anythin’ look good,” McCree says before his arm wraps around her waist. Sliding down to sit beside him, she lowers her head. The fabric of his shirt is comforting, and the curve of his shoulder supports her well. His fingers rub soft circles into her hip. If he wants to melt her away, he’s set on the right track.

Slipping one arm over his chest, Sombra holds him around his neck. It only takes one smooth motion to slide her legs over his lap. There, his free arm hooks over one knee, holding her tightly. The metal of his prosthetic arm is familiar now. The steady touch makes her content enough to hum softly.

“If ya keep me here, I’m gonna fall sleep.” McCree’s words rumble in his chest underneath her palm. Quietly, Sombra smiles against his throat.

They’re both too tired. At the moment, his warmth and touch will lull her to sleep. For once, she wants to be beside him. As close as possible while only being still. She’s always been moving and wondering. Beside him, the undetected, lethal eye can’t harm her.

“Let’s go to bed, Jesse,” her voice gives way to her weariness, but there’s no need to conceal here.

His thumb leaves a trail of warmth along her thigh as she slips out of his lap. Straightening, she fixes the plaid shirt against herself. It feels softer somehow. The simple cotton rests lightly against her as McCree rises off the couch. For a slow second, his eyes wander over her, drinking in her image as if finding water in the desert.

Sombra revels in the thought of being his oasis, his paradise. From the many months they’ve been tiptoeing around something dangerous and soft, she finds a shelter in his arms. Comfort, even when she didn’t need it.

“Come on _, vaquero._ ” 

She takes him across the room. Her bed rests lazily against the wall, but it will make do for both of them. After his many visits, she’s taken to keeping sweatpants his size. He finds the small stash underneath the bed with a familiar motion.

They undress with ease, slipping into softer clothing. For a few seconds, she admires his bare torso before his grin catches her sharp eyes. He is handsome in many angles of light. To know that only her hands have touched that beauty makes her prideful.

A simple tank top dons her chest before she slips the blue plaid shirt back on. It’s too comfortable now. She’ll give it back to him when his scent runs off of the cloth.

“Olivia?”

She turns, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Tilting her head slightly back, McCree looks at her. Something shifts in the marble honey of his irises. Intense but genuine. Fearful longing and heartache that can only be healed by what’s in front of him.

She shouldn’t have him. Of all the sharp, twisted games she plays, he’s the truth. The burning sun came to a shadow, and reached out for her touch. He is all and every little thing.

“Jesse,” she murmurs as his flesh hand takes hers. The hat he usually dons still rests on the table, but she knows it’s a part of his person. Down to his boots and gun, he’s trying to be more than a young kid running in a gang.

She feels the gentleman’s grace as he leans to her hand. As if bowing, he kisses her knuckles with a tender sweetness. Even McCree’s lips are honey, but she already knows that.

“ _Mi amor_ ,” she whispers, drawing him to her and onto the bed. They fall gently, finding the space small but making it work. Her leg hooks over his, and his hand takes a moment to grab her thigh as if holding onto the world.

Smoke spills off of his person. Inches away on her own pillow, McCree smiles. A radiate brightness that blinds her every time.

“My darlin’,” he moans for a moment. His arms wrap around her, pressing her close. Goosebumps rise on her skin, but she rips the blanket over both of them. As if they’re children hiding away from the rest of the world. They still breathe upon the pillow, and her chest feels light and heavy all at once.

Shifting against the bed sheets, she presses her chest to his. He moves too, expecting her lips against his but she almost laughs when he stills at her small movement. Silently, her lips press to his forehead, almost upon his hair. He feels warm. A sly smile still holds her mouth as she settles back down against the pillow.

“Yer killin’ me, Olivia,” he moans again. His hand tightens on her thigh, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

“Good.”

Carefully, her hands trace the cords of muscle lining his neck before cupping his cheeks. Between the pillow and blanket and his beard, there is only comfort. His arm squeezes her waist. He laughs quietly in his throat before she teases him once again. Almost in a pout at her lips pressing to the tip of his nose, McCree squeezes her again.

“Please,” he says, as if speaking to the heavens under the roof of her small place, “Olivia.”

Her lips settle. The sly, teasing smile slips away as her eyes drink in his tan skin and rough hair. His rugged features still cause her to pause in awe.

“Jesse,” she whispers, meaning it.

She gives in. In the small space between them, they make it something more than just a bed and two bodies. He tastes like smoke and whiskey. Pink lips move against hers, a gentleman in every right. When she stops for one breathless moment, his kisses travels over her cheekbone and up to her temple. Her own forehead kiss.

He is her sun.

Slipping against his chest, her cheek feels the pulse of his heart. It beats strong. Unwavering in its heavy tempo, she lets the noise lull her to a quiet sleep.

As Sombra’s eyes slip close, another kiss touches her hair. 


End file.
